Puzzle Pieces
by AGENT Kuma-chan
Summary: History is not made up of the big moments but of the small fragments that come together to paint a tale. Their tale of war and strife, of love and friendship. 13. They all think they are heroes, with their innocence and their power.
1. Prison

Community: 31 days

**Community****:** 31 days  
**Day/Theme:** September 3/Prisoners Dilenma  
**Fandom:** D. Grayman  
**Characters:** Allen, mentions of Lenalee, Kanda, Lavi  
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_Should I __**stay**__ or should I __**go**__?_

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"We have to return at gate 29," Lenalee murmured, looking at her group of rag-tag excorists. They were worn out, clothes sullied and a small wound here and there. After fighting a large group of Akumas, that was to be expected.

"Follow me," she smiled at them, wanting to be positive where they weren't. Slowly, she turned around and started to head down the street. Kanda made a small 'Tch' sound as he followed her quietly, while Lavi started to flirt with one of the girls assissting them today.

Allen stayed behind for a moment. He knew what was awaiting him when he returned. A prison, not one of bars and chains, but one made of words and doubtful glances.

In a way, those things made it worse than he expected. He had slowly gained everyone's trust, only to have it destroyed because _he—_

(and somewhere inside, something small chipped itself. How could _Mana_, a father, a person he loved, a—

How could he be betrayed like this?)

—decided to make him change into something he wasn't. His hair ruffled slightly in the breeze as his comrades walked on, not noticing him lagging behind.

If he returned, Allen would have to face questions and distrusting remarks. If he returned, he'd have to face that cage he had just escaped all over again.

Perhaps he should run now. The young boy mulled that thought in his head for a moment, thinking of it for a moment. Lenalee would be crushed, of course, and Lavi would probably end up trying to hurt him. Kanda would do nothing, but when ordered to attack, he'd probably make his attacks more painful just for giving him all this trouble.

Still, being out here, free would be better than—

"Allen-kun?" a soft voice spoke and Allen started. Lenalee was approaching him, a worried look in her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"..." he noticed that Lavi had stopped flirting and that Kanda was sharpening his sword.

"Nothing," he smiled back, noticing the inquiring looks. Giving her a reassuring smile, he told Lenalee to keep leading them.

"Hurry up, Beansprout," Kanda muttered darkly as he continued to walk. Lavi grinned, "Yuu, you're right. He still is a beansprout!"

Allen only glared at both of them as he followed.

He'd stay.

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**A/N:** Right, so this is my series of one-shots that I shall just update every now and then. Request if you wish, with characters/pairing and prompts.


	2. Family

Prompt: puzzle pieces

**Prompt:** puzzle pieces

**Characters:** Komui, Lenalee, mentions of the other characters

**A/N:** This is something I've kept in my folder for a long time, so finally I am going to post it.

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_Family_

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The sound of footsteps and not-so-quiet bickering could be heard coming down the hallway.

"Beansprout, hurry up!"

"Yeah, Beansprout, listen to Yuu and pick up the pace."

"I'm not a beansprout."

"…"

"…"

"Lenalee-chan will not like to see the two you fighting. Especially you, Yuu_-chan_."

"…"

"Yuu…you can put down your sword now."

"Don't call me _that_."

The door opened and Lavi scurried in, followed by a sword-swinging Kanda and a glaring Allen. Inside the room was Lenalee, holding a book in her hands and staring at the three exorcists in surprise.

"Lenalee-chan!" Lavi cried.

"Eh?" Lenalee squeaked as the red-haired flirt cowered behind her back.

"Yuu is trying to kill me again," Lavi explained, before noticing what the girl was wearing. It was a dark dress, short enough to expose her creamy thighs and he smirked, "Nice dress you have on."

The girl blushed darkly as Lavi stared at her clothes. "Thank-you," she shyly replied.

This time they could hear the tension in the room, feel its oppressive presence.

"Lavi," Allen said, his voice low and full of threats, and Kanda seemed to be calculating the distance between his sword and Lavi's head.

"Beansprout? Yuu?" the Bookman raised an eyebrow at their actions.

"Get. Away. From. Her," Kanda growled.

"Please don't fight," Lenalee pleaded, "You destroyed the library yesterday and that's enough damage as it is."

As she continued to try and bring back peace, a passerby watched them through the door.

For a while, Komui just stood there.

Komui had a very good memory. He could remember when his sister was born, her first word, the day she got taken away. He could remember the way she screamed and yelled for him.

He could remember the smile on her face when she saw him again after several years. The look of relief in her eyes and the calm aura that surrounded her.

After finally reuniting with her, Komui had tried everything he could to fix their family. He'd made sure that he'd always there for her, she had a home to return to—

He wasn't the only one to do so.

Their family was splintered and broken over time. It was all he could do to try and fix it.

Smiling, he walked away.

It was times like these, when Lenalee was laughing and joking with the others, he felt as though it had been whole since the start.

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**A/N:** Tadah, the next one-shot. -


	3. High Stakes

Community: 31days

**Community: ****31days **

**Day/Prompt:** Oct 7/double or nothing

**Fandom:** D. Grayman

**Character/Pairing:** Tiki, Allen

**Rating:** K+

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_High Stakes_

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"You do know I'm going to win this one, right?" one player says, glancing at his cards before smirking at the face of his opponent.

"We'll see," the other boy replies, rearranging his cards to hide his nervousness. _I can't be nervous now. With all that's at stake, I can't be nervous now._

They sit facing each other in the middle of a room. A round table with green felt holds the cards while around them are mirrors, each displaying a different face. One is of a dark-haired man, cuts all over his skin. Another is of a short-haired girl, her legs wrapped up carefully. A fiery man, his hammer clenched in his fists, is displayed in yet another.

"Shall we continue?" the first man speaks, his hand hovering over the cards. "I'm getting bored of watching you delay."

"Not delaying," the boy shoots back, "Just planning what to do next."

"Of course. But considering how many tokens I have..." His voice trails off and the boy is reminded of how this started.

_"Hello, Allen. Nice to see you again." A figure loomed out of the darkness and Allen was caught off guard._

_"You!" Allen stepped back, glancing around furiously to spot any other Noah while starting to transform his arm._

_"Now, now. I'm not here to fight." He held his hands up, to show his innocence, but if anything, that made Allen more suspicious._

_"I'm sure."_

_"No, I'm here to play a card game with you." A card game? A simple card game with a Noah?_

_If anything, simple games were never just that. They always were complex.__ A game was made out of every problem, a way to teasing the exoricists and showing that the Noah's were powerful. So powerful that they didn't need to take anything seriously._

_"Why would I__—"_

_"Lenalee, Lavi, and," he paused, "Kanda, right? Wouldn't want to see them get hurt...especially since they are my tokens."_

_"...where do we start, Tiki?"_

Allen draws a card. It has been a few hours since the game started, the game that never ends, and he needs a good card.

Losing is not an option.

His eyes widen when he notices the card before he gives a small smile.

"Smiling?" Tiki grins, "Good hand, then."

Cursing softly, Allen quickly slips back into his poker face. After years of playing in order to pay off his master's debts, he should know better than to show he has the upperhand.

"Hmm...what if we raise the stakes, then," Tiki has a sinster look in his face. "More innocence, more fighting, all sorts of fun things."

"What do you say? Double or nothing?"  
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**A/N:** I like the idea I had behind this, but my exacution…bah…I think I need to work on that a little.

**Questions?** _Comments?_ Suggestions?

_**Review!**_


	4. Cheating

**Community: ****31_days**

**Day/Prompt:** Oct 7/double or nothing

**Fandom:** D. Grayman

**Character/Pairing:** Allen

**Rating:** K+

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_Cheating_

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"What?" Allen froze as he read the paper handed to him. "Are...Are you sure this came from him? All of this?"

"Yes," growled the old man. "Now, if you don't handle it, my men will have to deal with you."

"..." Allen's eyes widened as the sheet expanded, tripling in size, and he nearly collapsed then and there. "Are you sure that all of this was his?"

"Of course."

There was no way Allen could handle this. Maybe if he ran...no, he needed this lead but...

His life was far more important than his master's, Allen decided before he nodded a thank you and turned to leave.

A hand stopped him.

"Where is it?"

"Uh...when I find him—"

"He told me his appentrice would come. Now where is it?"

_Master, when I meet you, you will die._ Allen thought. "I don't—"

"Fork it up. Where's my money?"

"His debts...will take," Allen paused when he noticed a deck of cards. "Why don't be play poker for the money? I offer something worth even more than money, my...uh...imported animal. He's from a rare species." He grabbed Timcampi and held him. "He's worth hundreds."

"Hmm.." the old man had a gambling habit and couldn't resist. "Fine."

-x-

"My turn," Allen said, grabbing another card. _Please let this be a good card. _He had lost track of what game they were playing, instead just following along and hoped he would win.

"My little friend, you will lose." The old man grinned as he grabbed another card. "I'm thirsty, though...Let's have a drink. Bring one," he ordered his guards.

"I'm too young," protested Allen as the guard reached into a bag and presented a bottle of wine. Apparently the old man loved to drink (like a fish) as well.

"Who cares? Drink up." With that, a glass was placed in front of Allen.

"But—"

"My guard can help you drink."

Allen quickly swallowed down the drink.

-x-

"Good friends, right?" the old man sang and Allen drunkenly yelled in response, "The best of friends!"

"Not until my money comes back." The old man wasn't drunk enough to forget the money, even though by now the game had disintegrated into him and Allen dancing on the table.

The old man started to sing and Allen joined in during the chorus. "I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts, there they are a standing in a row—"

"Sir!" A guard appeared by the table, not at all surprised by the situation. "There is a situation."

"What is it? I'm busy!"

"Your wife. She'll be back in an hour," the guard informed the old man and instantly he turned sober.

"An hour?"

"Yes. She does not approve of this, remember?"

"Yes, she doesn't…she'd kill me if she found out."

Allen was pushed off the table and cold water was dumped over his head. "What—"

"Your turn."

"..." Allen grabbed a card, fearing the guard that loomed over him.

The other man grabbed one as well. "Yes," the old man crowed, slaming his cards on the table.

"I win!"

"What?" Allen lost all signs of drunkeness when he realized what just happened.

(Years later, he'd look back to this day and remember what happened when one was drunk and honest. From this day onward, he always steered away from drinks. He also cheated often.)

"Now, let me take that creature of yours."

Hands reached out to grab Timcampi and in desperation, Allen blurted out, "Double or nothing?"

The smile in response made him wish he could take back his words.

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**A/N:** ^-^ A humourous attempt at this prompt. Allen and his master's debts…I miss reading about them…

**Questions?** _Comments?_ Suggestions?

_**Review!**_


	5. Strength

**Title:** Strength

**Fandom:**

**Theme:** 21. Somewhere, weakness is a strength

**Character:** Allen

**A/N:** Sorry for how short it is. I'll try to make longer ones to put here…

**Summary**: _It isn't here but he wishes it was._

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Somewhere, in this huge world, weakness has to be a strength. There has to be a place where wars aren't won by strength and it is intelligence that saves the day. People train for the fun of it and fights are just a word.

There has to be a place like that somewhere but it isn't here. Allen wishes it is here but it isn't. Here it is all about strength, all of the time. If he doesn't work harder, his friends will die around him and he can't stand that.

(Not again. Not now.)

If he isn't strong enough to take on the Noah and all that they encompass, he will never be able to keep the world the way it is. Everyone will disappear, an eraser wiping out all traces of their existence and leaving just a blank page. And then another blank page and another until it is a book that is filled with nothing.

(But it is filled with everything now and he will fight for each and every page.)

Lavi, Lenalee, Kanda, and all of the exorcists he knows are pages he has bookmarked and he will fight for them more. He will fight for each insult, each secret, and each smile. Allen will do that because he knows that they are fighting for the same thing.

(He will do that because they are _his_.)

In a sense, they are the only things keeping each other together and in one piece. They each hold a small part of each other, a small part that disappears with each death and grows stronger with each day. At the end, when they when, only the pieces the survivors have will remain of them and Allen wants to keep as many of them alive as he can. He wants to stay whole.

The only way he can do this is by not being weak.

It might be strength somewhere in the world but it isn't here. It will never be here. There are too many things on the line for it to even impact here.

Instead he will fight and try to protect that small corner of the world.


	6. Monsters

**Title:** Monsters

**Fandom:**

**Theme:** 22. We are twisted, aren't we?

**Character:** The Earl, mentions of the Noah

**A/N: **Sorry it's so short…this is what writing early in the morning after homework looks like.

**Excerpt**: _It was all just a game and he would miss it._

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He found it exciting, this game he played. It was at first just a game of tag, trying to capture as many pawns as he could and finding all the Noah. Then it turned into a game of cat-and-mouse.

(The smile on his face grew bigger, if that was possible, when he realized he had opponents.)

While before he used to choose anyone to be the next host, he would now pick carefully. Would this little boy grow strong enough to make an interesting battle? Would that young lady pull at their heartstrings and cause the exorcists more misery?

(And it thrilled him when he picked correctly. It was like a gamble and sometimes he won that gamble.

Losing was fun too, because that made the challenge all the more intriguing.)

It was all a wonderful game that the Earl would almost regret ending. For it had to end eventually—he could only let the exorcists advance so much. He had to win eventually and the longer it took the more tiresome the game would eventually get. It was best to end it will it was still fun.

"Now?" Rhode gives a bright smile. "To see Allen?'

"Of course," the Earl smiles back. "It's time to attack again."

"Oh…" She frowns slightly. "I suppose you're ending the game then." Then, she perks up and smirks. "I'll have to make the ending fun."

It didn't surprise the Earl that even the Noah think like him. Didn't the saying go '_birds of a feather flock together_'?

And there were no birds more twisted than them.

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	7. Colour

**Title:** Colour

**Fandom:**

**Theme:** 14. Same thing we do every night, my dear

**Character:** Lenalee, Tyki, mentions of the Earl, Kanda, Lavi, Allen, and Komui

**Summary**: _It's a pure white room, so pure and dazzling she has to closer her eyes when she enters. Where is the colour?_

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It's a pure white room, so pure and dazzling she has to close her eyes when she enters. Even the lights are white and she stays still at the door. Even then, in the dark depths of her mind, the white echoes and repeats and she can't tell if she has actually closed her eyes.

She lingers, a foot hovering in the air, unable to cross the threshold. If she could, she'd stay like that without having to make that choice.

"Come in," a voice grates and she shivers involuntarily before moving. Even then she's hesitant. A few strands of her hair fly past her eyes and she stares at the black. Colour, something she can't recall when she enters this wing for days at a time. Colour that is not white like the newly scrubbed skin on her hands or the freshly washed gown they have her wear. Even her shadow is white here. The tresses of her hair stand out and she nearly makes a grab for them when the voice continues. "Hurry up, Lenalee."

Lenalee, that is her name. Maybe. Once upon time, there must have been a colour for that name but she can't remember what it was. Lenalee…it sounds nice.

(For a moment, she thinks of blue-black eyes and red, red hair and who are those boys? They were important to her once but she doesn't know why. There was another and he was important too. She doesn't understand why when his hair was as white as her world is now.)

"Come on, Lenalee." His—she knows it is a 'he' somehow—voice annoys her. He shouldn't be saying her name at all. Someone else, with glasses and…she can't remember anything else. That person, though, should be saying her name.

Involuntarily, she goes to him anyways, a puppet following her master's commands. _Clack, click, I'll make you sick_ rhymes the metal knife that's placed on the white tray next to her. It hums too loudly in her mind and she makes a move to push it away when a hand grabs her wrist. "Uh, uh. Can't have you do that now."

It's a bruising hand, an ugly hand, and she can see blood stains on it, stains as white as his gloves. "Don't touch me," she says when her voice comes back.

(Came back from where?)

She pulls her hands away from him. Soft hands, rough hands, she knew that those used to hold her but they were always kind hands. "Don't touch me."

"You're talking now?" The voice sounds amused. "I thought you stopped so long ago…I'm glad I can hear your lovely voice. _He_ will be most pleased."

Who? She almost asks but her voice stops again. Her mind supplies her with a white ghost and she doesn't think about it anymore. Instead she turns her head and the voice becomes a body. He smiles at her, his skeleton teeth gleaming. "You know what to do. If you're good today, we'll be done with this hall for now. We might even let you outside."

She complies, held only by that promise.

She'd do anything to get out of that building and see the world once more.

-x-

She runs outside, her footsteps singing _Outside, Outside_ as she makes her way down the hall. He isn't too far behind her but she doesn't slow down so he can catch up. She's nearly there, nearly made it, and then she nearly collides with the doors. Luckily, they open and she pushes her way outside.

Smiling, she twirls around in the fresh air for a moment, her eyes closed as she feels the wind caress her skin. Then she opens it and all she can see is white again. It falls, small drops drifting with the wind and blanketing the world. Even the broken buildings and small fires are covered in white.

As she falls to her knees, he comes up behind her and starts to laugh.

She knew it was too good to be true.

(There is no colour. Not anymore.)

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	8. Missing

**Title:** Missing

**Fandom:**

**Theme:** 01. I'm totally not up to the world today

**Character:** Allen, mentions of his master

**Summary**: _It wasn't anything knew to him. He knew more about it than most but why was it such a surprise?_

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The sun was bright, almost too bright, and Allen had to shield his eyes as he entered the street. The sky was clear with barely a cloud in sight and it was an almost perfect day. It was the first he had seen in a while.

He shivered in the warm breeze, a cold chill crawling up his spine. The world is noisier than he remembered but in a muted way. As though he was watching the world from a distance, a tinted window that let only trickles of sound in. A bird cawing or a child screaming mix into one sound, one without any distinct features. It was loud but he didn't know just what made it loud. It just was.

Pulling his hood over his head, a shield of sorts, he quickly started walking. Mechanical movements, a puppet following the whims of his master, that didn't stop when he bumped into a little girl or crashed into her. Her hat flew into the air and he caught it out of habit.

"Thank you." She took her hat back and gave him a quick curtsy.

(He wasn't sure but they might be in Germany.)

Allen shrugged, watching her thank him again. Her big brown eyes stayed on him a moment before she scampered off.

Death wasn't something new to him. He knew more about it than most, dealt with it like a new hand every day. Usually, when he got his hand, his cards pointed in his favour and it was always someone else that ended up losing someone. It wasn't something that affected him personally but it affected him nonetheless.

(It was hard to ignore the restrained voices or black coffins that littered the halls, like drops of paint that no one could control. It was all too easy to notice the missing helping hand or the chattering voice, eager to be of service.)

It vaguely affected him usually, the smell of smoke left behind from a cigarette. He knew it but didn't know it and all he was left was a bad taste in his mouth. The few times he did know someone, it grew worse than that but still manageable.

This time was different. This time it was someone he _knew_. Not a person he met for a few days, not someone who was ordered to go with him. This time it was someone who annoyed him and teased him and knew Allen for most of his short life.

This time it was someone special.

Allen's master had always been there, ready to lead him down the path when he needed it but always too far ahead for him to grab. Sometimes, when he was lucky, Allen could grab his coattails but more often he was reaching out into empty air. He was used to that and, in a sense, even came to like their game. Even if he had to follow him for months at an end, Allen would eventually catch a glimpse of him.

(Never again.)

His master had gone somewhere even Allen couldn't follow.

The girl ran ahead of him and all he could see was the red of her dress.

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	9. Cycles

**Title:** Cycles

**Characters:** Bookman, Lavi,

**Prompt:** May 4/This too shall pass

**A/N**: Meh, not quite that proud of this one….

**Summary**: _It was just another cycle but Lavi didn't get it._

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Bookman had been expecting it when it happened again. Expecting and wondering what took so long for the latest outburst to occur.

Once Lavi returned from the latest mission, his eyes dark and eyebrows scrunched up, he knew he didn't have to wait any longer. Another argument, another fight, another struggle to understand the truth.

(_Why can't I help them? Why do we have to just watch? Why?_)

Lavi would ask the questions because in the end, that was all he could do. Ask questions to which there were no answers. Bookman couldn't recall going through that phase himself, but he had changed hundreds of times since then so any memory of it would be long suppressed.

Still, he found those questions an annoyance. A trivial matter that shouldn't be looked at for long. It made no difference who the Noah or the Exorcists were. It didn't matter what they wanted to accomplish, didn't matter what would happen should one side win over the other.

They were of the Bookman Clan after all and that granted them a privilege to live through any era.

Perhaps it was time to have Lavi change again, to stop his delays. If he was asking all these questions, having these doubts, that meant he was getting too attached. He would start considering them as friends, start picking one side of the other.

History was supposed to be recorded without biases and getting attached meant that was not possible.

Besides, did it really make a difference which side was the victor? Empires rose and collapsed all the time and this was just one of many. Eventually this group would leave and that was an undeniable truth. In the end, there would always be another battle, always be another war. A new generation would step in and replace the old, telling stories of the past and creating new stories of the future.

Whether a few exorcists lived or died, it did not change this fact and was just a part of the various cycles that life went through.

If only his idiot apprentice would realize that and stop acting so emotionally.

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	10. Meditation

**Title:** Meditation

**Characters:** Kanda, Lenalee

**For**:Annie. Sorry it's late. There's KanaLena in there somewhere…

**A/N**: Uh, spoilers for the latest chapter. Slight spoilers that no one will get if they don't read the latest chapter.

(Why is the series on hiatus, of all things, now?)

And, I was experimenting a little with using a colour to make a mood. As you can see, it didn't work.

**Summary**: _She only ever comes to him when she has a problem._

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She usually comes to him in the evenings or early mornings. Occasionally, she'll come during the late afternoon but rarely does she ever appear midday.

That makes it odd that she appears at the door just before noon. He's used to her appearing unannounced, that's nothing new. She never plans it, always coming to him whenever she felt like it, whether it inconvenienced him or not.

(It never did.)

He keeps his eyes closed, ignoring her. She'll sit when she's ready, speak when she wants to. It's not his business to ask. Probably some problem again, that's the only time she ever seeks him out. Anything else, she'll go after the beansprout or Lavi.

Kanda almost wonders what is it about those two that makes her go to them when she is happy or excited, what draws her when she has something she wants to share something or do nothing at all. He almost wonders but stops.

It should not concern him how she spends her time and with who.

(But it does.)

Lenalee finally sits beside him, her breathing irregular and her footsteps light. She's improving, he could only faintly hear the steps. All that training she put in is finally coming into use.

Perhaps he should come to her next training session to see how much.

Perhaps, but he is neither her trainer nor her opponent. There is no need for him to be there.

There's silence for a while and he continues to calm his mind. It's here, in the black corners that he doesn't see anything. No flowers spring forth, dogging his every step and look.

He can't escape her gaze here though. Without looking, he can feel her staring at him.

(His every sense is heightened when it comes to her.)

Cocking an eye open, he looks back at her and asks gruffly, "What?"

She doesn't reply or acknowledge his question at first, which is unusual. There's a light sheen of sweat on her, probably from her morning exercises. The small rays of sunshine dance on it, making her pale skin take a light golden colour. He doesn't doubt it does the same to him.

Parts of the wall appear a buttery yellow. Lenalee's usually most alert when the sun is this bright, liking the soft, warm rays that cover her then. As she's still watching him, he makes an annoyed grunt.

Slowly blinking, she realizes what she's doing and flushes. The red doesn't suit her skin, making the rest of her look even paler and washed out. The gold light makes her look healthier.

"Uh…" She bites her lip lightly, thinking of something to say.

He doesn't make it any easier for her. "Just say it."

Oddly enough, she calms down after that. The red recedes from her cheeks, fortunately. The beams of light reveal the dust in the air, mellow particles that reminds him to clean the room later.

"I had a problem," she finally admits. He knows that already, as he lets her know with an impatient look. "You knew that?" She seems surprised and frowns.

"Of course I did," he finally replies, tired of this little game of wait and see. Closing his eyes, he starts to meditate again when she speaks once more.

"I see." Her voice is no longer troubled. "It's solved now."

He waits, listening for her departing footsteps. The problem's solved so she should be leaving soon.

Instead, she stays.

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	11. Riddles of Life

**Title:** Riddles of life  
**Day/Theme:** September 3 // IT GETS UNDER YOUR SKIN, LIFE  
**Series:**  
**Character/Pairing: **Road  
**Summary:** _It's easy to speak the language of death, to peddle it out like a cheap salesman. Harder so to break the riddles of life.__  
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Sometimes it's hard to ignore it. It creeps and crawls in the back of her mind, a snake climbing the vines and thorns of her thoughts, and while it is all to easy to pretend it doesn't exist at times, it doesn't always disappear. Sometimes it stops blending in with the scenary and tries to outshine its darker twin.

Road is more used to the dark twin, the twin made of shadows and fears more than anything else. Its the one she corresponds with, trading flesh and blood for souls and machines. Sometimes she sits on her throne of candlesticks and watch the fires die one by one, each one a coin piece in her bargining system, each one a piece she can use or throw away at will.

It's easy to speak the language of death, to peddle it out like a cheap salesman. Harder so to break the riddles of life.

The other Noah can't ignore it--Tyki with his train gamblers, Desire with his constant, never ending thirst--and she is no exception. When she's in her room of hulf-spun lies and doors that open to nowhere and everywhere, she has to face it. She sees it in every face that crumples, in every splash of blood. Life pools around humans, clinging to their clothes like lint and leaving a trail as bright as the sun. Her fingers might grasp on their fading warmth and her mouth sucks in their dying breathes, but it doesn't follow her when she leaves. Instead, it stays behind, an abandoned pet, and mocks her every move.

She hates it. Hates it and crushes it and wishes above else she could just taste it once more. Just once before she wipes it away.

...

...  
...


	12. Anything but Ordinary

**Title: **Anything But Ordinary  
**Day/Theme: **Oct 11 // I feel about average  
**Series: **  
**Character/Pairing: **Miranda  
**A/N: **Title from a song by Avril Lavigne (I just realized after I put it on, but the song kind of matches the mood of the piece). My first attempt at Miranda...  
**Summary: **_She was expected to be average and even now, when she's on the edge of something extraordinary, she's still average.__  
_...

...

She expected an ordinary life, one that followed her mother's and one that her daughter would follow after. If she didn't enjoy the route she expected, she never showed it.

When she reached sixteen, she would find some nice boy, John something-or-other, and they would fall in-love. Not madly, not passionately, but calmly and instead of lingering kisses and heated stares there would be gentle mumurings and promises of what is to come. At twenty, she would marry, at twenty-two she would have her first child. They would have three kids--one girl, two boys--and she would cook and clean and watch the kids and do anything and everything that was expected of her.

At ninety she would die of old age, her husband dead three years ago.

That was what was expected of her and she never tried to prove it wrong.

(When Miranda was five, she wanted to dance on sparrow wings and twirl her way into ballet. When she was ten she tried to be a singer, a shop owner, a maid, anything to get her out of here.

When Miranda was fourteen, she saw where her talents lay (_nowhere_) and gave up on running.)

-x-

The clock on her arm stutters and halts when it ticks away time, gasping and wheezing like she is. Catching her breath, she wipes the sweat off her forehead and continues to chase after the pencil outlines of a boy and a girl, the shadows that she can barely touch.

They are too fast, too powerful, and something tells her she will never catch up. They will stay ahead of her, darting elusively into the bushes and trees of her hopes, and maybe one day she can brush the edges of their skill, taste the remains of their talent.

She doubts it though, pushing and pushing herself forward. Her legs are burning, her lungs are collapsing, and she finds it funny that her knees are the first to go. Tripping, she pants as she lies there, sprawled on the ground.

They are vanishing again, disappearing into the distance once more. She won't catch up to them this time, has to hope they remember to come back for her instead.

(Miranda once tries to tell herself, she has a gift, she is special and she is _needed_. That more than anything makes her not-average, drags her away from that life of cycles and tradition. She has something no one else does and if she works for it (and she will, because she has to, she just _has _to), she will be somewhere in the horizon this time, instead of watching the stars from earth.

Then she remembers of the gaping distance between her and the others and thinks that even now, even when she has finally touched the extraordinary, she is still that average girl who cannot run.)

...

...


	13. Hero

**Title:** Hero  
**Day/Theme:** Jan 03: _innocent things which they are joined with_  
**Character/Pairing:** Random exorcist  
**Summary:** _You almost think that you are a hero, the good guy, the one that will always win._

...

...  
_Innocence_.

Its name is deceiving—spinning tales of glory and victory.

_Innocence_. It's hard, when you use something called that, to think you are anything but the good guy. The hero. The one that everyone admires and everyone wants to be. You almost expect crowds of people cheering you one, envying you, giving you anything and everything you want.

It's hard not to get a swelled head.

Then it happens. First mission out, thinking it'll be easy, the hero always wins. You take a train, two other exorcists with you. One's reading, the other is staring out the window.

You try not to feel hurt when every attempt for a conversation falls flat.

"I don't want to talk to you," one says.

The other, "You're annoying me, newbie."

And the pain grows worse when you follow them off. They don't stop and wait, striding further and further away from you. You almost have to run to keep up and still there isn't even the slightest glance in your direction.

(_I'm just new at this, they don't know how good I am yet, I have to prove myself_)

Three days of searching and you almost fall into a lull. Nothing has happened, nothing will happen. It's safe. After all, there are three exorcists with innocence embedded in them, the chosen ones. Nothing bad happens to those god favours.

Except when it does.

Red. Everything turns red for a moment when a (young, oh so young, she was only three!) girl explodes, her blood splattering the walls, the ground, your shirt.

Oh, you think dumbly, that will be hard to get out.

Soon the world turns black and white, stars taking over the red sea. They multiply, faster than you can run. There are cries, there are screams, and there is the sudden silence that comes when nothing is left.

You still run. You run and cry and for a moment, you forget you have innocence.

The akuma chases you, cackling a little.

A dead end—you hit one and all that's left is to stand and stare at the jaws of death. You won't survive this.

Only then do you recall the innocence in your swords. Your breathing calms down slightly.

(_I can win this, I can survive, I am chosen_)

But the weapons (you realize that's what they really are: weapons, meant to slash and maim and kill) aren't enough. _You_ aren't enough. You cut it down, time and time again, only to find you missed it.

Or it's still moving.

Or there is another lurking in the shadows.

They rescue you then, faces as cold as ice as they destroy the remainder. They move like clockwork, like robots, and you forget that they are human.

(You wonder if you will remain human.)

"...hey, newbie, looks like you survived."

You nod mutely, seeing only the gray ash and red blood and black stars that will haunt you in your dreams. When they start to pay a little more attention to you, you realize what they knew all along.

There are no heroes in this fight, only those who live and those who don't.

...

...  
...


End file.
